Her Skin:10

"you are going to kill me"
"you are going to kill me"
"I still don't understand your pain, please don't let me die."
"I love you"
"but"
"you are going to kill me"

"Shall I take my love to the grave, shall I let it rot with my skin, and be devoured by the worms?"
"My dear..."
"you are going to kill me!"

His Sickness:09

As the first day had ended, the sickness got me, and I felt the unavoidable urge to sleep.
So I finished the sewing her up, and almost instantly feel asleep.
I dreamt about a golden cathedral, full of black. As if the huge void black similar to "outerspace" was the ceiling, the altar held a white void ball.
The ball had imprinted the words

"you are going to kill me"

and as read those words, my eyes slowly opened to an undesired sight.

Blood.

Her Love: 08

"Because humans were made to feel. And Because I love him, I will embrace the pain.
I will devour it, and satiate my hunger from it. I will love the pain, because it's his pain.
I will learn from his pain, so as to protect him from it."

And the pulsating feeling I feared had started, and continued for a long time.
As the blade slowly traveled trough my skin, leaving behind it a trail of blood.
It filled me with a profound heat that emerged from within and covered me.
As my head convulsed in pain, my body became dizzy, numb yet so vibrant, I felt like a flower opening it's petals for the first time. A flower of flesh.

His Will: 7

Now, I will make of you, a truly unique and free being. I will make you overcome all self imposed limits, all social barriers, you will taste the true individual freedom.
I shall carve you to my liking.
I am your artist, and you are my art.
Let me use you as my guinea pig.
I will carve you...

"Once you give up on everything, once you lose everything, only then you will gain absolute freedom.

I exist on the hope to find a beautiful maiden that will slit my throat with a malice and grace that its so inherent of woman.
Now I understand that of course, there's no such thing. And if there's no such thing, I will make it.
Now then, shall we begin to put the seeds of malice into your heart?

So that one day I can harvest the hate outta' you?

Let's start small, here's a blade. Let's paint it red!"

His Existance.

I do not exist.
I do not exist on my own,

so even if i didn't wish to exist.
I exist, because others want me to.

Shoot me,
you'll find yourself shooting at thin air,
my physical existance doesn't garantee the existance of a self.

So I exist.
I exist against my will.
therefore, I do not exist.

Existance is futile.
Existance is a spoutering nonsense.
That constantly kicks you in the kidneys.

Why do I exist,
If I do not wish to.

Why do you continue to live on the hope of satisfaction?

Speak to me!
Look at me!
Talk to me!
Desire me!
Scar me!
Feel me!

KILL ME!!!

Because I exist solely on the hope that someone will someday, confirm my existance.
Untill that day, I will resume my un-existance.
I am not.
I am the anti-existance.

"I tried, but no-one would ever look at me."
Why are they so cruel as to refuse my existance.
Why is me, so cruel as to deny my existance?

Interlude: B

Your filth with mine,
isn't that love too?

Her Shit:6

It was that other him again. His face was now unhuman, just a fixed grin and those evasive eyes.

At this point... at this point I myself doubted him, and even more I doubted myself, what am I? Do I have another face, am I like him?

"The Unconscious handles the true strings,
The Conscious just acts like a blind puppet.
never knowing what are the true reasons."

Am I but some residual self, excreted by some other self more like what I had witnessed in him? AM I SHIT?

Aren't we all in a way, a piece of trash?
A product of the unconscious trash?
UNCONSCIOUS SHIT, THAT'S WHAT I AM.